


You're an original

by semicolonsandsimiles



Series: Tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Business Trip, F/M, First Meetings, Originally Posted on Tumblr, art gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semicolonsandsimiles/pseuds/semicolonsandsimiles
Summary: “Oy, mate.” A woman’s voice startled Declan out of his examination of the painting. “If you’re that enamored of my work, get inside. You’re blocking the door.”------------A Jordeclan first meeting.
Relationships: Jordan/Declan Lynch
Series: Tumblr prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976614
Kudos: 12





	You're an original

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from aurumdalseni on tumblr - Jordeclan tourist/local AU.

Declan checked his watch. He had half an hour until his meeting, which was only a block away; he’d planned to be early, of course, but there was such a thing as _too_ early. His eyes were drawn back to the art gallery he stood in front of.

In particular, his eyes were drawn to the Sargent reproduction in the window. It was impeccable work. Declan wasn’t sure he could have recognized it as a copy if he hadn’t seen the original hanging in the Met. 

“Oy, mate.” A woman’s voice startled him out of his examination of the painting. “If you’re that enamored of my work, get inside. You’re blocking the door.”

Declan looked over into dark brown eyes that seemed more amused than irritated. The woman to whom the voice belonged was a work of art herself, with intricate brightly-colored floral tattoos standing out against the dark skin of her arms. 

Declan had been staring a bit too long to be polite. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the embarrassment. “Yeah,” he said, “I was just coming in.”

The woman smirked at him and held the door open as he walked in. Inside a few more reproductions were scattered throughout the small room, but most of the paintings were clearly original and evoked a dizzying spectrum of emotions: a frantic city night, a tranquil summer countryside. 

“You act like you’ve never seen a painting before,” the woman -- the gallery owner, Declan thought, she’d called the Sargent _my work_ \-- said.

“I haven’t seen _these_ before,” Declan said, hoping his voice conveyed his admiration. “They’re yours?” 

“All mine. One-woman show, here.”

“They’re marvelous,” Declan said. He attempted to inconspicuously read the labels for prices, though he could feel the woman’s eyes following him, so there wasn’t much chance she didn’t notice. “I’ve got a meeting soon, but I’d like to come back and purchase something before I leave town. What are your hours?”

The woman stood up and plucked a business card from the desk she’d been perched on. When she handed him the card, her hand pressed warmly against his with an unnecessary and, Declan hoped, deliberate amount of contact.

“Since you’re here for work, we can do an evening appointment,” she offered. “My number’s on the card. Call later and we’ll work something out. I’m Jordan.” 

“Declan,” Declan’s mouth said automatically. “You’re sure it won’t be an inconvenience if--”

“Try me,” Jordan interrupted, giving him an exaggerated wink and a broad grin.


End file.
